Reedus, Norman Fucking Reedus
by Jet Michelle
Summary: Norman Reedus takes lessons on being suave from James Bond (Young Sean Connery Bond is there any other?) but in the end it's "oh James" who is schooled. Just a funny what if inspired by Normans GQ Japan photo shoot


"Now Mr. Reedus" Mr. Bond says with his signature Scottish drawl. "If you want to be an MI6 agent there are certain things you must master. "First, ordering a drink." Mr. Bond leans a meticulously tailored arm on the bar and says to the bartender. "I'll have a martini." as if his order is actually some sort of secret mission.

"Oh I can do that," Mr. Reedus replies and turns to the bartender himself and says, "Jack and coke please."

"No no no Mr. Reedus, there is no mystery, no sophistication to a 'Jack and coke'".

"Um ok." Mr. Reedus says again. "Jack and coke," then whispers to the bartender, "on the rocks."

"Mr. Reedus a 'Jack and coke' can be neither shaken nor stirred, hence there is no sophistication, no nuance." Mr. Bond takes a manly sip of his martini. How a man can manly sip a martini is beyond Mr. Reedus.

Mr. Reedus tries sipping his Jack and coke but just feels gay so takes a healthy gulp instead.

"Now Mr. Reedus can you introduce yourself to ladies?

"I'm not a fuckin virgin Bond! I just happen to play one on TV." Mr. Reedus turns to the attractive brunette next to him and says with a shy smile. "Hi. I'm Norman." The woman smiles but just looks away. Mr. Reedus turns to Mr. Bond with a bewildered questioning expression.

Mr. Bond gives him an enigmatic look and turns to the equally sexy blond woman to the side of him commanding her attention instantly with a flash of his dimple. "I'm Bond. James Bond." He picks up her hand to kiss her knuckles but at the last minute turns it over to kiss the inside of her wrist. The sexy blond smiles in invitation and purrs "and I'm Fanya. Fanya Wannafuck."

Mr. Bond turns back to Mr. Reedus with a 'see that's how it's done' gesture and waves Mr. Reedus back to his attractive brunette.

Mr. Reedus sighs, runs a hand over his jaw and tries again. "I'm Norman. Norman Fucking Reedus!" The brunette jumps as he yells at her, then she grabs him by the front of his t-shirt and drags him into her for a wet, slurping tongue-swallowing kiss. Mr. Reedus turns to Mr. Bond with a triumphant expression.

Mr. Bond sighs as he's quickly thinking Mr. Reedus is a lost cause but turns back to Fanya to complete the lesson. "Wannafuck?" Mr. Bond takes her hand again quietly questioning her. "Is that the English branch of the family?"

"No." She says taking a sip of her drink and eying him over the rim. "My mother was an Allot."

"Ah" Mr. Bond inclines his head, "I always like to get to know my fans well."

Mr. Bond turns back to Mr. Reedus who has been watching this interaction unfold. He smirks and leans around Mr. Bond and says to Fanya. "I like to fuck a lot too." he winks at Mr. Bond and misses Fanya's arm drawing back to splash her drink in his face. He's distracted another moment as Mr. Bond, who has withdrawn a linen handkerchief from his breast pocket, begins wiping at a few damp spots from Fanya's drink, so Mr. Reedus is surprised when Fanya reaches past Mr. Bond, grabs the front of his t-shirt and drags him in for a wet, slurping tongue-swallowing kiss then licks her drink off his face.

Mr. Reedus chews the inside of his lip and smirks at Mr. Bond. Mr. Bond cocks a brow at Mr. Reedus in disbelief before tucking the sodden cloth into his coat pocket.

Mr. Bond skillfully slides off his stool and links his arms with the socially awkward gent, leading him away from the bar least he be soaked again by some line. "Mr. Reedus perhaps you should audition your pickup lines for me before releasing them on an unsuspecting woman."

Mr. Reedus stops and looking at Mr. Bond sideways he says from beneath his lashes, "What's your favorite number?"

Mr. Bond plays along. "Four."

"Mines 3 cause if you turn it sideways it looks like boobs!" Mr. Reedus slips his hands in his front pockets looking pleased with himself.

"That," Mr. Bond drawls, "is NOT a pickup line." He leads Mr. Reedus to a circular booth. "Alright let's move on. Do you have any special gadgets?"

"Um I have a titanium eye socket?"

Mr. Bond lifts his brow intrigued. "Interesting. We may be getting somewhere now. What does it do Mr. Reedus? Employ night vision, shoot lasers?"

Mr. Reedus imitates the eyebrow lift and replies, "It keeps my eyeball in my head."

Mr. Bond shakes his head disappointed. "I know someone who may be able to enhance that for you."

Mr. Reedus perks up. "ya you know a guy?"

"I know many men Mr. Reedus." He says drolly.

"Bitchen!"

"Yes as you say Mr. Reedus." Changing the subject Mr. Bond asks "What about weapons. I for one favor the Walther PPK. It has a certain romance to it."

"Why cause it's big?"

"No Mr. Reedus because it is deadly accurate. Now do you have any experience with weapons?"

"I can shoot a cross bow damn good. I even tried a long bow…hit the bulls eye even."

"Well that is splendid if you are trying to be Robin Hood, which is not the object of this exercise now is it?" Mr. Bond slides with suave smoothness out of the booth and starts for the door, over his shoulder he continues, "Come Mr. Reedus we are going to take an excursion."

"Ya where we off to?"

"We will be visiting one of 'my guys'." Mr. Bond ends with a slight flinch using the term.

The two men exit the building and as they approach the curb an Aston Martin is instantly pulled up before them.

"Wow how'd you do that?"

"Gadgets Mr. Reedus." Mr. Bond flicks the face back down on his Swiss omega watch and easily catches the keys the valet tosses him. Mr. Reedus fiddles considering the string bracelet on his wrist before shrugging and squeezing his frame into the passenger seat.

He fidgets a bit to get comfortable then pulls a smoke out of a crumpled pack in his pocket and twists it into his lips. Mr. Bond removes a silver case from his breast pocket, chooses a cigarette, and places it in his mouth with deliberation. Mr. Reedus smirks as he flicks a silver lighter open with his thumb and offers the flame to Mr. Bond. Mr. Bond nods his thanks with a 'touché' expression on his rugged face and the car engine purrs to life.

Once on the road Mr. Bond reaches over and opens the glove box revealing a screen and a doddering old man greeting him. "Ah Mr. Bond I presume," the man says over the screen.

"Hello M we are taking a detour to the tailors can you let him know to expect us? "

"It is done Mr. Bond he shall be expecting you shortly I gather?"

"We are entering the establishment now M." He said ending the transmission as the glove box closed on its own.

"Is that your guy?" Mr. Reedus asks around the smoke between his lips.

"Yes M." Mr. Bond eyes Mr. Reedus's outfit with disdain.

"What's 'M' stand for?

Mr. Bond looks at him serenely, "I've never wondered."

"Uh OK . Cool I guess." Mr. Reedus shrugs and pulls out his cell phone punches in a number and asks, "Hey record South Park for me?" Mr. Reedus looks at Mr. Bond with a cocked brow of his own "Ya I got guys too." and he grins.

The duo climbs the stairs to the second floor and enter the tailors shop. The tailor is a midget with a hunched back. "Now Monsieur Reedus what is your style?" The little tailor asks with a creepy lisp.

Mr. Reedus puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs, "guess jeans, t-shirt and boots. raybans? I've basically been wearing the same thing since high school."

The tailor tsks, shaking his head and looks to Mr. Bond now seated with his legs crossed at the thigh. "The gentleman needs a tuxedo Alphonse…you know what to do." The little tailor nods his head and goes about his tailoring business.

Later Mr. Bond does a spinning motion with his finger. Mr. Reedus is standing with the tailor adjusting the fit of a black suite coat across his wide shoulders. "What do I need a tux for?" Mr. Reedus says petulantly, wiggling in a circle in the uncomfortable suit.

"Clothes may not make a man Mr. Reedus but they certainly help." Mr. Bond replies as the tailor's voluptuous assistant drapes herself across his lap. He winks at Mr. Reedus as he engages the beauty in witty banter.

After much canoodling in the chair and much fidgeting by Mr. Reedus, Mr. Bond seems pleased as the tailor helps Mr. Reedus shed the coat. "Perfect Alphonse can that be made ready as we wait?"

"But of course Monsieur Bond." Alphonse lisps before taking his tailors shears and throwing them with deadly accuracy at Mr. Bonds chest.

Mr. Bond deftly dodges the flying sheers without disarranging a single hair on his head, excuses himself from the voluptuous beauty and goes after the hunched lisping tailor as he runs for his life down the stairs to the first floor. Mr. Bond picks up the shears and calmly slides over the railing to deliver a hanging kick to the little villain below knocking him down. The two scuffle dramatically and the shears coincidentally end up in the tailors belly by the deadly end.

Mr. Bond stands over the dead tailor brushing at an invisible piece of lint on his immaculate suite. Mr. Reedus comes running down the stairs. "It seems he died of shear fright." Mr. Bond says to a panting Mr. Reedus.

"Seriously dude? You think my lines are bad?" Mr. Reedus says incredulously.

The voluptuous beauty comes down the stairs and sidles up to Mr. Bond. She puts her arms around him and tries to kiss him. However, Mr. Bond is on to her hijinks, he spins and easily puts her in a sleeper hold until she faints at his feet. He looks to Mr. Reedus and quirks a brow questioningly.

Mr. Reedus chuckles "Um…always knew the ladies fell over themselves for me?"

Mr. Bond smiles, "There may be hope for you yet sir." He adjusts his black skinny tie and inclines his head.

Mr. Reedus claps him on the back and says, "Look James, and yeah I'm gonna call ya James. None of this Mister shit, we're buddies right?"

James inclines his head in the positive and listens.

"I'm gonna show ya how I roll now man and it's gonna be epic."

They go back to the bar to pick up Normans Harley-Davidson Sportser. When the valet brings the bike around, he moans, groans, and tries to chew off James's arm. James jumps back as Norman plunges a long knife into his skull.

Their adrenaline is now pumping as more groaning valets bear down on them. "Get on!"  
Norman yells to a dazed James.

"What are those?" James asks, hanging on to Norman for dear life and realizing a well placed Judo chop would have done nothing to stop those villains.

James is trying to look macho on the bike but you can only look one way hugging Norman Reedus on the back of his motorcycle...his bitch.

"Walkers." Norman grunts out going all Dixon.

They managed to evade the walkers and pull into an alley. Norman pulls out his phone.

"Unbelievable Norman, you're making a telephone call when the walking dead are after us?" James tries to keep his cool.

"One tweet's all it'll take." his fingers fly over his cell.

As they pull back out of the alleyway fans of all shapes and sizes, (mostly women) come out of shops and restaurants and beat the walkers down with their handbags shouting, "Follow me Norman!"

"Damn it's a fucking riot." Norman grunts as they speed away from the chaos.

In the clear, Norman and James pull up to a China town loft and rush up the stairs to safety.

James is clearly still speechless, out of his element, his hair disheveled and he's got a smudge on his suit.

Norman flops down on his couch and flings a negligent hand out offering a chair to James. "I'm ordering take out…noodles ok with you?"

"Noodles?" James asks.

"Yeah noodles…flat pasta?" Norman asks incredulously.

"Ah Italian." James seems satisfied.

Norman grunts and shakes his head in disbelief.

James is inspecting the apartment. His eyes come to rest on a gallery wall full of road kill photos and looks away quickly.

"Pretty gruesome hu?" Norman smirks.

"Yes a strange subject for photography."

"Yeah I've go a whole theory about the dying looking out through those tortured eyes and shit." Norman says as he pulls out a bent smoke, lights up and offers one to James.

James takes the cigarette with a dubious look at its condition but accepts a light from Norman anyway.

The two puff away and wait for their take out. Norman pulls two beers out of the fridge and tosses one to James who barely catches it juggling it a bit in the attempt.

"Dude you may as well make yerself comfortable. No way no how I'm gonna go out there again tonight." Norman says.

"Then how am I to see how you 'roll'?" James asks grimacing as he takes a sip of beer from his bottle. Aren't there any chilled glasses anywhere?

"Not a problem." Norman smirks and punches at his cell for a while "party'll come to us man." he smiles.

"That's quite a gadget you have there." James drawls, his Scottish accent more pronounced with his obvious stress.

"The only gadget you'll ever need man." Norman pulls a blunt from his pocket and sparks up. He passes it to James between his thumb and finger. James takes the dubious cigarette from him and takes a quick draw. Then coughs uncontrollably.

Norman laughs at him good-naturedly "dude pace yerself." He takes the joint back and sucks in a deep drag. He opens his mouth and balances a spitball on the tip of his tongue filled with smoke.

"That's fantastic!" James starts to giggle. The two pass the MJ back and forth, Norman teaching James various tricks, blowing smoke rings and such finally blowing smoke directly into James's mouth. James is starting to giggle wildly completely out of character now.

Norman giggles back and turns on the TV to his favorite south park episode. The two guffaw over Cartmen's antics when the doorbell rings. Their noodles have arrived.

Norman pushes himself up off the couch to answer the door. Two hot chicks, one dark haired one blond, have delivered their noodles. Norman knows James is partial to blonds so when he invites them in he introduces everyone and lets the blond make her way over to James atypically sprawled in his chair.

She seats herself in his lap, loosens his skinny black tie, and unbuttons the collar of his dress shirt. "Oh James…" she purrs.

Norman smiles 'parties on' he thinks and pulls the brunette into him with his hands on her face, blazing cigarette still in his hand.

The brunette pulls Normans 'cheap trick' t-shirt over his head and nudges him towards the bedroom. Norman grins hard and flips the bird to James as he lets the hottie drag him into his bedroom.

After many moans and headboard banging Norman and the brunette emerge disheveled from the bedroom. James and the blond are playing a game of strip chess. So far, James has only lost his shirt but the blond is stripped down to what looks like a white bikini swimsuit.

Once the women left, James says to Norman completely out of character now. "Fuck dude you gotta tell me how you get past the 'fade to black' when the sex scenes start!"

Norm and Jimmy are now best friends for life.


End file.
